Knocked Up: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Nikki Ash

  That back door bangs open and Alba hops up before I have a chance to blink, hurrying to help her mom.

  I quickly follow, taking Dahlia in her carrier while Alba gets the diaper bag from her mom’s shoulder.

  Her mom follows the two of us to the front of the studio. She watches us both closely, like she’s taking notes and detailing every nuance. She leans casually against the wall as I set Dahlia’s carrier down. She coos, already reaching for me as I bend down to snap her out of the carrier.

  “How’s my beautiful girl?” I grin at her, lifting her into my arms. I never knew babies had a specific smell, but I do now. I think it’s my favorite scent in the world besides the hint of rose and vanilla that always lingers around Alba. Coming up from kissing each of Dahlia’s cheeks I find both women watching me closely. “What?” I ask hesitantly, hoping I haven’t done something horribly wrong. “I’m holding her head the right way, aren’t I?” I panic, ready to adjust my hold.

  “No, you’re fine,” her mom assures.

  “Then what is it?”

  Alba clears her throat and starts rearranging things on the counter she had already straightened before I even walked into the shop.

  Her mom bends to pick up the carrier—it’s hers so that she doesn’t always have to swap with Alba—and gives me a curious look. “You’re not what I expected.”

  “Oh.” I eye the tattoos covering every inch of my arms. I can’t see the ones on my neck but I’m sure those are cause for concern too.

  Her mom laughs, shaking her head. “Not your tattoos. I’m well-used to those and don’t judge anyone based on them.” She cocks her head toward her daughter. “I just … I guess I expected you to just be here out of some weird sense of obligation. Not because you want to be.”

  Dahlia touches my cheek with her chubby hand. When I reach out to take it she wraps her fist around and holds on with more strength than something so small should possess.

  Clearing my throat, I look her mother in the eyes. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.” Then my gaze swings to Alba, silently trying to express to her that that night was more than just a whim or trying to get off. In the moment I might’ve tried to make myself believe that, but it was a lie.

  “Hmm,” her mom hums, giving Alba a little smirk. “Interesting. You two have fun,” she tosses the last part over her shoulder as she leaves out the back.

  It’s silent for a solid thirty seconds between us before Alba claps her hands together. “So, food, yeah?”

  The Thai restaurant is packed. It’s a favorite among locals. Hell, I’ve heard of people driving all the way from D.C. just for this food. It’s that good. Dahlia sits in the carrier Alba had me grab from her car so we could eat without one of us holding her. A few people eyed us warily when we came in with the infant. Terrified I guess that she might start screaming and disturb their meal. But Dahlia is a princess and would never scream like a banshee, I’m sure of it.

  Alba rocks the baby carrier absentmindedly, nibbling on her bottom lip. Her dark brows are drawn, and you wouldn’t have to know her well to sense her obvious tension and worry.

  I’ve never been much good at the whole talking aspect when it comes to women, but with Alba I find myself wanting to delve further into her mind and learn everything I can.

  “What’s bothering you?” I prompt, wiping condensation off my glass.

  “Nothing,” she responds in a voice that tells me something is definitely bothering her.

  I’m a guy, but I’m not an idiot.

  “Alba, come on. Talk to me. Whether you like it or not we’re in each other’s lives. Communication is kind of part of that deal.”

  She pushes noodles around her plate, clearly thinking about what she wants to say.

  “What’s your end game here, Travis?”

  My brow furrows and I lace my fingers together, resting them on the table.

  “My end game?” I repeat. “What do you mean?”

  She exhales a breath, her eyes drifting over to the snoozing infant. Dahlia sucks on her binky, her lashes fluttering against her pink cheeks, lost in a blissful dream world.

  Slowly, Alba brings her dark eyes to mine. “We’re not a couple. We’re not … anything. Not to each other anyway. So why are you here? You must have some idea of what you’re doing but I’m clueless.” She wiggles her fingers between the two of us. “Forgive me for wanting some clarity on the situation.”

  Rubbing a hand over my jaw I try to think of the best way to respond. “We’re parents,” I finally say. “This was all a bit unexpected for me.” Understatement of the century. “But I’m trying, Alba. To be here for you. For her.”

  “But why?” she practically cries. Confusion is written plainly on her face. I wish I could erase it, but frankly I don’t know how, not when I’m as lost as she is.

  Wetting my lips, I admit, “I don’t know.”

  She winces, that answer apparently not being what she wants to hear.

  “I want to go.”

  “Go?”

  “Yeah.” She pulls her dark hair into a ponytail. “I’m not very hungry anymore.”

  “Oh.” Something heavy sinks into the pit of my stomach. “Okay. I’ll get the bill.”

  Standing up, I go in search of our waiter so I can pay, but when I get back both her and Dahlia are gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alba

  I hate myself.

  I hate myself for being confused over Travis.

  For not wanting anything from him but then wanting everything.

  I hate myself for wishing he’d go away, but I hate myself more for wishing he was here.

  I’m a fucking mess and I can’t tell up from down anymore and that’s all that cocky bastard’s fault.

  Wiping down the kitchen counter I do a quick turnaround, making sure everything is clean and in place before I head up for the night.

  Starting up the stairs I hear a knock on the door and freeze. A knock at this time of night is never a good thing and can only spell bad news. Ignoring it, I finish my trek upstairs to get ready for bed.

  My phone vibrates and I yank it from my pocket with a disgruntled breath.

  Travis: Open the door.

  My breath catches in my throat. Turning around, I head downstairs and swing the front door open, finding his tall, commanding presence filling the doorway. The front porch light seems to make his neck tattoos glow from where they stick out from the collar of his shirt and jacket.

  He stands there, just staring at me with those blue-gray eyes I wish I could hate but never could, not just because he gave them to our daughter, but because if I’m honest with myself I’ve been falling for Travis Alexander since the moment I met him.

  “What are you doing here?” The words come out barely a whisper.

  He blinks down at me, Adam’s apple bobbing. Clearing his throat, he holds out a small cylindrical object.

  “I came to return this.”

  “Return … this?” I repeat, my eyes finally lowering. “My pen?”

  He steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Yeah,” his voice is low and gravelly. “But don’t make me go.”

  “Huh?”

  “I realized something after I turned around and you two were gone.”

  “W-What’s that?” I stutter, trying to ignore the flutter in my belly when he watches my lips.

  “That I don’t like it when I’m not with you. I don’t know when or how it happened, but fuck, Alba. You were under my skin before I even left town and now that I’m back, I’m never letting you go.”

  “Wha—”

  He silences me with the sudden pressure of his lips, his hands cupping my cheeks. I’m enveloped completely in him. His touch. His scent. His taste. He’s everywhere and I’m drowning.

  The logical part of my brain shouts at me to push him away.

  That this is wrong.

  It’s Travis of all people.

  But my heart. My heart says it’s him. He’s t
he one I want.

  I’m helpless to deny that silly organ even if it would be the smarter thing to do.

  He backs me against the wall. Moving one hand beside my head he uses the other to tilt my chin up, angling my lips closer to him. He lets out a tiny hum and I revel in that sound.

  I push at his jacket, desperate to free him of the garment and shirt underneath. He pulls away only long enough to get rid of both before he’s back on me, licking, nipping, and sucking at me like he’s starved for the feel of my skin and the taste of my lips.

  “Travis,” I murmur, my fingers delving into his thick strands of black hair.

  “Mmm,” he hums back, and I’m lost once more in the kiss.

  I let out a tiny yelp when he picks me up. My arms automatically go around his neck to hold on. In the back of my mind I worry about my weight being too much for him, but he doesn’t hesitate and walks up easily, kissing me all the while.

  “Which room?” He growls out when he reaches the top of the stairs.

  “Back left,” I answer.

  I don’t have a chance to catch my breath before his mouth is on mine again and he’s carrying me through the doorway. A moment later the soft touch of my mattress hits my back.

  “You have no fucking idea how much I’ve wanted to see you like this again. I had dreams about it when I was gone and still didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

  “Admit what?” I blink up at him, my tone a little breathless.

  “How fucking much you mean to me.”

  He captures my lips between his, sucking and nibbling like his life depends on it. His movements feel both fast and slow somehow. Like he’s desperate for my taste but he wants to savor it.

  His fingers inch beneath my shirt, slowly guiding up my sides.

  Once again, insecurity rears its ugly head because my body looks different since having Dahlia. I don’t hate my new body but that doesn’t mean he might judge it. There’s extra skin there now and stretch marks that haven’t yet faded.

  Almost as if he can sense my train of thought, he murmurs into the skin of my neck, “You’re beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  My heart warms at his words and I tug him closer by the back of his neck, forcing him to look into my eyes. “Do you mean this?” I’m not referring to whether he thinks I’m beautiful or not.

  “More than you know.”

  With that declaration I decide to trust him with something I’ve never let anyone else have.

  My heart.

  His fingers find the button of my jeans. He pops it open deftly, sliding the zipper down. A shiver runs down my spine. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t be nervous.”

  I want to tell him I’m not nervous, but it would be a lie.

  With my jeans loosened his hand skims down my belly past the band of my panties. Further. Further. I gasp at the first touch of his fingers against my core.

  “Fuck,” he rasps against my ear, “how are you so wet already?”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to answer. It seems he can’t stay away from my lips for long.

  Slowly, because he keeps pausing to kiss every inch of exposed skin, he undresses me before doing away with his own clothes.

  He grabs a condom from his jeans, smirking at me. “I came prepared.” He tosses the foil packet on the bed beside my head.

  “You intended for this to happen?”

  His eyes sober, his tongue sliding out to moisten his bottom lip. “I hoped.”

  He moves down my body and my back arches at the first swipe of his tongue against my most sensitive spot. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched my body responds with a desperation I didn’t expect.

  I wiggle and he clamps his hands around my thighs to hold me in place, a tiny whimper breaking through my lips. Slapping a hand over my mouth I try to quiet my mewling. The last thing I want to do is wake the baby up.

  He swirls his tongue around my clit with an expertise ninety-nine percent of men are missing. He takes his time too, unbothered by the fact that despite how turned on I am it’s taking me a little while to get there.

  When I finally do, the orgasm rattles my entire body. I bite down on my fist but that still doesn’t completely silence the noises coming from me.

  Travis swipes the condom from the bed and rips open the foil packet, rolling the rubber down his length, his eyes on mine the entire time.

  He pulls me to the end of the bed and grabs the base of his cock, lining up with my entrance. I watch with bated breath as he sinks into me, both of us moaning in unison.

  “Fuuuuck,” he growls out in a strangled voice. “You feel too fucking good. It’s better than I remember.”

  Lowering his head his hair brushes my forehead and then he’s kissing me. His tongue pulsing into my mouth in time with his cock. It’s sexy as hell.

  “Harder,” I plead against his lips. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

  He rises up, blue-gray eyes twinkling. “Is that a challenge?”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. He slides out and I mewl in protest, but then he’s turning me over and back inside before I can feel too bad about it.

  “Don’t make me leave,” he begs. My sex delirious brain thinks for a moment that he means not to make him leave my pussy, but then he continues. “I want to stay. I want to give us a try. I want to be a father. Don’t make me leave.”

  I grip the sheets, struggling to find words from the pleasure. I’m on the cusp of another orgasm when his cock disappears. A second later there’s a sharp smack against my ass.

  “Answer me,” he demands. “Don’t make me leave.”

  I look back at him, my eyes lazy. “I won’t.”

  A look of relief washes over his face and then he’s fucking me relentlessly until we’re both sated and spent. Somehow, I find myself curled beneath the covers—my body coiled around his as I drift off into one of the most restful sleeps I’ve had in months.

  Chapter Twelve

  Alba

  I wake up sometime in the very early morning to cool sheets. Blinking my heavy eyes open I find the spot beside me now empty of Travis’s body. With a groan, I sit up. Before disappointment can settle too far into my chest, I hear murmurings from down the hall. I heave my body from the bed, pulling on a sleep shirt since I didn’t bother with pajamas after I returned to bed from using the bathroom.

  Down the small hall I pause, peeking into the nursery.

  My heart clenches in the most delicious way when I see Travis in the nursery. He dances around the room with Dahlia in his arms, singing softly to her while feeding her a bottle. I watch for a few minutes before he looks up and notices me in the doorway.

  “Hey,” he says in a sleep-thick voice. “I heard her over the monitor in your room so I thought I’d tend to her and let you sleep.”

  “The bed got cold,” I say in reply.

  “Is that your way of saying you missed me?”

  I give a small laugh, stepping further into the nursery. “Maybe.”

  Travis stops dancing as I come to his side. We both peer down at Dahlia in awe as she sucks at her bottle, already half-asleep once more.

  “How did we make something so perfect?” he asks me. I’m not sure he even means to say it aloud.

  “I don’t know,” I reply anyway. “But I’m thankful every day for her.”

  Clearing his throat, he murmurs, “I’m glad I finally found my way back here. To both of you.”

  There’s a nervous glint in his eyes but it disappears when I say, “Me too.”

  I’m fiercely independent. To a fault. I can admit it, but I’ve always had trouble pushing past it. Now I can accept that I like spending time with Travis. I enjoy his company and miss when he’s gone.

  I want him to have his time with Dahlia and since I trust him with her now, I turn around and go back to bed.

  It’s maybe thirty minutes later and I’ve barely dozed back asleep when the mattress dips with his ad
ded weight.

  “Are you awake?” he whispers softly into the darkened room.

  “Mhmm,” I hum sleepily. His body scoots closer, a second later his arm wraps around my body. “Are…are you spooning me?”

  “Shut up,” he growls against my neck, “I want to hold you.”

  “Did she give you too much trouble?”

  “No. She’s always an angel. She gets that from me.”

  I smile sleepily. “You wish.”

  When I wake up Travis is missing yet again. Slipping from the bed, I quickly use the bathroom and pull on some leggings and a t-shirt. Down the hall I poke my head into Dahlia’s room but I’m not at all surprised when I find it empty.

  As I start down the stairs, I hear Travis in the kitchen and he’s definitely talking to her.

  “Who’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen? You. Mommy’s a close second but you knocked her out of first place.” There’s some banging of pots and pans and then he says, “Daddy loves you so much. I didn’t know I could love like this.”

  I pause on the stairs, my eyes falling closed. This is what he was missing out on by keeping her a secret. More so, this is what I was keeping from our daughter. True, she’s an infant, she won’t remember him not being here initially, but I will and it’s my fault. I could’ve tried harder to get ahold him. I could’ve…

  “Are you sleeping on the stairs standing up?”

  My eyes pop wide open to find Travis standing at the bottom of the stairs, a mug of coffee halfway to his lips. I have to admit my Gilmore Girls mug looks strange in his hands, but even stranger it doesn’t make me mad.

  “No, just needed a moment,” I mutter, coming down the rest of the stairs.

  In the kitchen I find Dahlia kicking happily in her vibrating bouncer. She’s freshly changed and dressed for the day. He even put one of her headbands on her.